


Personal Circles of Hell

by YukiRiikus_Reading_Room



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Violence, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-08
Updated: 2013-01-08
Packaged: 2017-11-24 05:25:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/630919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YukiRiikus_Reading_Room/pseuds/YukiRiikus_Reading_Room
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In all his years of existence, of watching over humanity and everything that happened on Earth, he’d never seen anything quite as intoxicatingly beautiful and agonizingly painful as the sight of Dean Winchester in the throes of a nightmare.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Personal Circles of Hell

In all his years of existence, of watching over humanity and everything that happened on Earth, he’d never seen anything quite as intoxicatingly beautiful and agonizingly painful as the sight of Dean Winchester in the throes of a nightmare.

There was something about the way his short hair plastered to his neck and forehead with sweat, the way his lips parted, kissably red from being bitten over and over again as he tossed back and forth twisting in the sheets entrapping him that made even a devote angel of the lord like Castiel give pause.  The delicate curve of his jaw as he threw his head back and groaned, the arch of his back against the mattress speaking of pleasure or pain, Cas wasn’t sure which.  If it hadn’t been for the screaming, the whimpers for Alistair to stop hurting him, the angel would have sworn this could never be what pain looked like. 

Dropping down lightly onto the edge of the bed Castiel reached out a trembling hand to touch Dean’s shoulder.  His fingers had barely touched the screaming man but he snapped awake, his eyes bloodshot and crazed as they turned towards the angel.

Swallowing he looked away to steady himself, sure Dean was looking at him like that for interrupting him in a vulnerable moment. 

Before he could turn back around, cold calloused hands were creeping around his neck. 

Dean’s hot breath against his ear made him shiver, Castiel remaining impassive as the hands around his throat tightened to the point that their knuckles went white.  It didn’t hurt him, not physically.  Turning in Dean’s grip to look at his face though, he felt a white hot brand pressing on his heart.  There was such hatred in Dean’s face, in the face he’d studied so often trying to learn what every tiny little flicker of emotion meant.  And this… this was pure, unadulterated hatred.

“You’re still dreaming.”    Cas said quietly still afraid to lift his arms and force the Winchester off of him.  He didn’t want to hurt him, not when he was so clearly confused and in pain. 

He whimpered again, his face set into a snarl as he wrung his hands.  Castiel knew he didn’t need to breath, that the angry red lines and bruises the hunter was leaving on him couldn’t kill him, wouldn’t hurt.  But when he saw them in the mirror, he would know how he got them, and he would remember that look of hatred in the face that had driven him to disobey even God himself.

He would remember that look, and his heart would break all over again.

“Please,” his voice came out a broken plea, the angel biting his lip as he felt the tears welling up behind his eyes. 

In all his years, he’d never cried, never felt the need to.

But if Dean didn’t stop looking at him like that, he just might break. 

“Dean, it’s me… its Castiel.”  He tried desperately, reaching up to touch the spot on Dean’s shoulder where his hand print was forever burned.  As his fingers ghosted over the marred flesh Dean shook his head, blinking up at the angel as if seeing him for the first time. 

As Dean’s hands fell away from his throat Cas smiled at him gently, opening his arms for the other man to fall into without a word.

If they didn’t talk about it, they could pretend that neither of them was heartbroken over what had just happened. 

In the darkness, both of them could pretend that neither of them was crying. 


End file.
